Wreckage
by BespectacledSloth
Summary: Waking up is hard. It's even harder when you wake up stranded on a foreign planet, the debris of your home ship lying in burning piles around you and wounds leaving scars on every inch of your flesh. I suck at summaries. T just to be safe. Possible character death later.
1. Ezra

**PLEASE READ:** Those of you that read this when it first came out will recognize the first 1,300+ words because it is what was originally the standalone chapter one. **Now**, however, chapter two, because it was actually pretty much a continuation of chapter one without anything in between **has been added to it.** On that note, please enjoy if you haven't read it before.

(And thank you to those that came early-on and those joining later to read this.)

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><p>x-x-x-x-x<p>

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><p>There was smoke, fire, all around. Images were spinning. The sky wouldn't stay still and the trees were performing some sort of sick tribal dance around it. There was pain. More of it than the fire or the sinister trees could cause on their own. It hurt to breathe, it hurt to move, it even hurt to blink. The air was thick and smelled of the fire as it engulfed the forest and the wicked trees. They were screaming and twisting as branches curled and leaves fell like ashes to the ground. The screaming grew louder until it encompassed the entire forest, filling with the sound of terror.<p>

The sinister trees with their tribal dance circled faster, dancing to the shrill horror and waving their flaming branches to the tune. They cackled and sang along, twisting and warping and chanting. The world spun faster, stretching the scream into a slow, low-pitched note, then into an ear-shattering frequency, spinning and spinning and spinning. The screaming covered every sound, every breath of air seemed to be full of the horror it wrought and the very feel of the world was shrouded in it's wake.

And then it stopped.

Everything stopped.

Everything went black and silence consumed the world.

When the world came back, it was dark. It was dark and the sky was filled with stars and two full moons and the trees had mostly stopped burning.

Ezra Bridger found himself alone. He found himself alone, injured—the extent of which he couldn't tell because his entire body felt like one giant wound—and laying on the floor of the Phantom, the back half of which was gone, shredded off as though it had been forcefully torn away, and the front half which was partially collapsed in from a tree that had been uprooted by the apparent impact of the ship. He shifted on the floor of the ship and felt something in his hand. He lifted it to his face and found a large shard of metal, glinting in the dim moonlight, dripping with blood that had cooled but not quite dried on it yet. He opened his hand and let it slide from his equally blood-stained grasp, feeling the razor edges cut his hand on the way out, and listened as it clattered to the floor.

He dragged himself backwards on his elbows, feeling glass from the shattered windshield slicing and puncturing his arms through his torn jumpsuit, and grasped for the co-pilot seat, pulling himself up into a seated position. He looked down at the trail he'd left as he crawled and, while hard to see in the blackness, could see the shine of it in the moonlight. He had lost a lot of blood.

He reached around, gripping the seat as tightly as he could and pulling himself up into it, letting out groans of pain as he strained to get into it. There was minimal glass here, and some blood already in the seat. Had someone else been in here before he woke up? Or had he been thrown from the seat when the Phantom crashed?

Once seated, Ezra gripped his leg, feeling the most pain radiating from it, and pulled it up onto the console and into the light. He let out a scream as he moved, gasping and groaning when he'd finally positioned his leg. It felt like someone had skewered him straight through, and upon closer inspection he realized that that was exactly the case. The metal shard he'd found seemed to have come from his leg, as there was a hole roughly the same size just above his knee that went straight through. It was bleeding badly and Ezra felt himself go cold a the sight of it. His breaths became quick and he paled, turning his head away. He would have to stave off the panic and get this temporarily fixed up if he wanted to live.

Looking for something sharp, he resolved to pulling himself from the chair and dragging across the floor once more. He grasped the shard and lifted it to his arm, carefully slashing his left sleeve into long strips, then pulling them from the jumpsuit. He did the same to the other sleeve, except left some strips wider and balled them up, pushing them, with some effort and nearly more pain than he could handle, pushing them onto and partially into, the wound. He then quickly wrapped the other strips around his left and tied them tightly, hoping they would suffice to control the blood flow. Then, he quickly cut his over-shirt into strips and moved to the chairs. Cutting open the fabric, he was able to pull out the stuffing inside and find the strips of wood in the center that made up the cores of the chairs and yanked them out with as much strength as he could muster. He then used the strips to secure the wood to either side of his leg and keep it straight so when he walked the cloths wouldn't shift and open the wound.

He finally was able to rise to his feet, having to pause and steady himself on the side of the ship as nausea swam and spots invaded his vision from rising too quickly. He took several deep breaths, letting the dizziness and fuzziness fade from his mind, then limped around the ship in search of anything he could use before he went outside. He found a small blaster near the back end of the ship, or what was left of the back end anyways, and some rations shoved in a storage compartment. He shoved all of the items into his pockets, then slowly limped outside.

It was dark, darker than it had seemed from inside the Phantom, and Ezra could barely see two feet in front of himself. He took a tentative step and felt something bump against his foot. He looked down, finding a familiar weapon. Zeb's Bo-Rifle.

He picked it up, looking around, "Zeb?" He called. "Zeb!?" He called yet still louder, but heard no response. He shuddered, fearing for the fate of his friends and himself, and pushed the Bo-Rifle under his arm, using it as a crutch—something he secretly hoped Zeb would be able to yell at him for later—and started forward. All around him lay wreckage, not just of Phantom, but of the Ghost as well. He recognized bits of the cargo bay and pieces of the cockpit all around.

What had happened?

He leaned heavily on the Bo-Rifle as he walked, feeling the need to sleep starting to overwhelm him as it grew later into the night and he found footprints that led nowhere, weapons and blood, all of which led to nothing that could tell him what had happened or where his friends were. It was as though they had fallen out of the sky and then out of the world completely. To make matters worse, he wasn't sure what planet he was on.

He limped along for awhile longer, then found a pile of wreckage near a tree. He leaned the Bo-Rifle against the tree and started to dig through the metal, pulling out pieces of it and creating a small lean-to beneath the lowest branches of the tree, sealing it up as much as he could from one end, and piling some extra leaves and light scrap metal on top in case it rained. He'd been unconscious for most of the day, but the call for sleep was calling him, and he couldn't risk stumbling around in the dark all night. He grabbed the weapon and pushed it under the lean-to, then lay down and slid under the shelter. He lay on his back for a long time, staring up at the sky as a third moon joined the others, and as he drifted off, he swore he saw a planet drifting in the distance.

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><p>He didn't sleep long.<p>

A shrill howl filled the air moments after the large planet rose into the sky, and Ezra awoke with a start, instantly reaching for the bo-rifle at his side. He pulled it close, lifting up on his elbows and listening for the sound. The howling filled the night again, this time in chorus with many other howls and snarls, sounds from all different nocturnal creatures began to fill the night and Ezra could tell from the closeness of the sounds that at least one of the creatures was close enough that he could hear the crunch of footsteps on leaves as it moved around.

He slowly pulled himself into a hunched sitting position, ignoring the sharp pain in his leg as he steadied the Bo-Rifle against himself, waiting for signs of danger. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply, and tried to focus. He could sense the danger, but with the fuzziness in his head and the pain in his leg, he found it increasingly difficult to keep a grasp on that focus, and felt it slip away altogether.

Slowly, achingly slowly, he crept forward out from under the improvised shelter and looked around, seeing nothing but blackness between the trees. He gripped the weapon tighter, ready to use it if the need came up, and took a breath. Everything had gone silent now, not even so much as a breeze playing in the trees. He relaxed a bit and turned to go back into the shelter when he noticed the eyes peering out at him through the trees.

"Who's there?" He called, stepping forward. He felt his hands shaking and tried to push his fear aside, taking a defensive stance. "Come out, or I'll use this!"

Twigs cracked and snapped as the eyes drew closer, and Ezra almost instantly wished he'd stayed in his hut. He took a hesitant step backwards, eying the hulking mass that emerged from the shadows. It had a face only a mother could love—and even that was pushing it—with huge sharp teeth bared in a snarling grin, globs of drool running down and dripping from the corners of its mouth. It had two huge tusks that jutted out just below the feline nose. It was at least four feet tall, maybe even five at the point where its back curved up at the shoulders, but the largest part of it was the sheer size of its paws. They were tiger-like in nature, just like the rest of the creature, but would definitely give every member of the big cat family a run for their money. Even from the distance they stood apart from each other, Ezra could smell the dried blood and rotten-meat smell wafting off the large cat.

"N-Nice, kitty?" He gulped, taking another step back.

The huge beast took one large step forward and huffed a deep breath of air towards him, every muscle twitching under its skin as it kneaded huge claws into the dirt. It stretched, yawning lazily, then began to prowl towards Ezra in a very slow manner, sizing up the boy with its eyes and nose.

"Good kitty. Nice kitty," he said softly, backing towards the tree slowly, avoiding roots and branches that may impair him if he found the need to run for it.

It was barely a yard from him now and flexed its claws, then set off at a sprint in his direction as though only suddenly realizing he was there. Ezra activated the Bo-Rifle and swung, jabbing at its shoulder. It backed off for a second, then charged again, pouncing and knocking Ezra to the ground.

He threw one hand up, pushing at it's face and trying to keep its snapping jaws at bay while his other hand searched for the Bo-Rifle on the ground. It had been knocked far enough away that he couldn't reach it, so he improvised, nabbing a large branch from the forest floor and using all the strength in him to swing it around and clobber the cat over the head.

It fled into the treeline, growling and snarling the whole way, disappearing into the darkness.

Ezra sat up and assessed the damage; his hand had taken some pretty bad bites, nothing a little time couldn't fix, but his shoulder was another matter. The cat had pinned him down and dug its claws in until it had torn three huge holes in his shoulder, and when it had run off, the claws had scraped back out with jagged, deep cuts. It was bleeding badly, not bad enough to kill him, but bad enough to make him worried.

He stood up, cradling his arm against his stomach, and started to head back to his shelter when he heard the sound.

Through the stillness that had followed the battle, came a piercing cry. He turned and faced the treeline, seeing the same piercing eyes that had come through there before, only this time there were more. Growling and snarling, some bigger than he was tall, and some with tusks long and sharp enough to kill instantly on impact. He picked the Bo-Rifle back up from the ground and raised his hand, ready to try and focus the force enough to protect himself, but he didn't have high hopes.

The creatures came all at once, and Ezra instantly used the biggest push he could muster to push them back as he retreated towards the large tree behind him, feeling dizzy and woozy from the blood-loss and sheer pain coursing through his body. He stumbled, dropping the Bo-Rifle to the ground and falling back against the tree. He fired several shots off with his energy slingshot, striking some, but not really delaying them at all. The shocks seemed to run their course virtually painlessly for the monstrosities. He kept firing until they were almost upon him, then turned and began scrambling up the tree.

He gripped the low branches and lifted himself a few feet off the ground, struggling to keep a grip and climb without use of one leg. He heard the pounding paws and felt teeth sink deep into his leg, struggling to hold on as he was pulled on like a chew toy. He screamed, kicking his other leg out and landing a solid hit to the cats face, but it wasn't enough to keep the others away as they jumped at him and clawed at his pant legs. One gripped onto him and nearly dragged him from the tree, causing him to release the branch with one hand and dangle by the other, screaming as he was pulled and twisted, hearing his shoulder popping with the forceful movements.

He channeled the force again, pushing the cats back and giving him a moment of reprieve before they came back, dangling by one arm as he shoved his hand into his pocket and withdrew the blaster. He aimed and fired as many times as he could, grazing some of the cats and keeping them at bay for awhile longer. He put the blaster between his teeth then and gripped the branch, swinging himself and catching the next branch with his legs. It hurt more than anything he'd ever felt, but it was be in pain now or death by dismemberment.

He crawled onto the next highest branch and the next, tears streaming down his face from the sheer pain of it all, until he got as high as he could reach, far out of the reach of the cats as they paced below him, attempting to climb the tree in search of him. They weren't built for climbing, but some of them made it high enough that Ezra kept the blaster out, ready and in his hand in case anything were to happen. The blaster wasn't for any creatures, of course, it was for himself. He wasn't going to let something drag him out of the tree and eat him alive.

At some point near dawn, the cats left, and Ezra succumbed to his injuries, falling into a deep sleep up on that branch. His clothes were soaked with blood and it was cold up that high in the breeze, a huge change from the hot forest floor, but he had fought the sleep for so long that when it came, he simply fell into its embrace.

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><p>As the sun rose, voices echoed from down below the tree.<p>

"Hera?" A girl called out, "Kanan?"

"_Karabast_," a man said, astonished, "How'd this get here?"

"Do you think it was one of them?" The girl said, "Look at this shelter. Ezra, maybe?"

"If it was Ezra, he's probably dead. Look at all the blood out here. Good riddance."

"You don't mean that, Zeb."

"Of course I don't," he paused, "But if he was here I would've."

There was silence, and then the voices were further away, echoing off into the distance.

"What happens if we don't find him? I mean, if we find Kanan and Hera but not Ezra?"

"Kanan'll insist we stick around 'til we do," the man grunted, "He's probably already got him, since he can _sense_ him and all."

"Okay, but what if he doesn't? Big forest."

"Bigger moon."

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><p>Ezra came-to just before sunset, nearly falling out of the tree as pain flashed through his body, and looked around. If he climbed out of the tree now, he'd have time to explore and try to find his friends, but getting down would be the hard part with his arm and leg out of commission for the most part.<p>

He took a deep breath and gripped the branch before swinging down and landing on the nearest one he could. He suppressed a scream, and continued this trend all the way down the tree, stopping at the bottom to catch his breath. He felt tears in his eyes and scrubbed them away, looking around for the Bo-Rifle so he could lean on it, but it was nowhere to be found.

"Karabast," he mumbled, hobbling towards some downed branches and finding one to use instead, "If Zeb's alive he's going to kill me."

_If_ Zeb was alive.

Ezra took a deep breath, shaking the thought from his head, and started forward. First things first, he would need some food and some water.

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><p>x-x-x-x-x<p>

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><p>This being the first thing I have written for Star Wars (and also this being the one time in my life I didn't manually save something once I was a full page in and lost 1000+ words of what I feel was pure gold and had to restart and couldn't fucking remember how to make words flow) I hope you'll give me some leeway from here on out as I attempt to write this idea that I got after discussing possible directions they could take the crew when the season restarts in January.<p>

Thanks for reading, please tell me what you think and don't be afraid to message me here (or on my tumblr or my twitter) if you have an idea for this fic, or another one about our favourite crew. I'm always open to requests!


	2. Zeb and Sabine

Please note that if you read chapter 1 when it first came out **it has been added to. It is not 3000+ words instead of 1500.**

If you're caught up, please enjoy!

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><p>x-x-x-x-x<p>

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><p>Something was on fire.<p>

Something was on fire and everything felt wrong about the situation. It felt like the entire room was swaying from side to side—not much, but enough to count. The feeling was sickening, swaying left and right and pitching forward and back. There was an uneasy creaking all around like something was about to break, and the sound of things sliding around.

Zeb's eyes shot open the second the sounds reached his ears. He was sitting up—that was good, easier to orient himself sitting up already—but gravity felt weird. It wasn't that it felt wrong in particular, it just felt like he wasn't on the ground. He blinked and hissed in pain, having previously not noticed the pain in his left eye. He placed one hand over it and inspected the blood in his palm when he pulled it away. He could still see, but the area around his eye and his eyelid seemed to be grievously injured. In fact, he noticed with some unease, he seemed to have a lot of blood on him.

He undid the buckles around his body and stood up, inspecting himself. He had small cuts and gashes on his legs and arms, most notably a huge gash running the length of one calf, and his clothes were covered in blood. He pulled some of the fabric up to his nose and sniffed.

It wasn't his blood.

He looked around, suddenly noticing the reason gravity felt strange.

He was in the Phantom—or half of it anyways—suspended in what seemed to be the top of a tree. He could see over some other trees outside of the large hole of twisted metal and scrap, and through the spaces between branches of others. It was daylight—barely—and the sky had a gray-white tint to it as clouds moved overhead. He took a hesitant step towards the hole to try and get a better vantage point and grip on the situation, but the second his weight shifted too far, the ship rocked and tilted, metal squeaking and groaning as it did. He stepped back. No reason to upset the balance at the moment.

He started looking around at the items on the ground. Some pieces of scrap metal, the lid of a crate, and Ezra's backpack were among the larger items.

Zeb didn't miss the splatters of blood decorating most of the items.

For now, it seemed he was alright. He had to get out of the tree at some point, but his wounds needed attention first. He carefully stretched his least injured leg across the ship and grasped Ezra's backpack, pulling it close to him and emptying the contents on the floor. Mostly nothing, a flashlight, a wrench, and some bolts. He brushed them aside and examined the pack. Stitching was minimal, and it was kind of ratty anyways. Ezra could get another one.

He gripped the straps and pulled until the seams popped, then jerked and pulled harder until both straps came loose and then would be easily pulled off. He set them to the side, gripping the top flap and doing the same until he ripped it completely off. Piece by piece he took the backpack apart as much as he could manage until he had a nice pile of fabric and scraps. He took the biggest piece—the flap—and folded it in half, placing it over the gash in his leg, then used the two straps to tightly tie around and secure the makeshift bandage. Next, he used one of the pieces of the inner lining he'd manage to pull out and folded it into a long strip that the then tied over his eye. It was annoying and he couldn't see from that eye at all afterward, but at least he wasn't bleeding into his own eye anymore. He used the remaining scraps to wipe himself down, getting as much blood off as he could, then stood up and checked himself over in case he'd missed anything.

Satisfied that he was good, he faced the hole in the ship. There was no time to try and figure out if the back hatch would open—the wind had picked up and the ship was swaying more violently now. He could hear the groaning metal and the scrape of branches as the ship shifted back and forth against the fragile wood. He'd have to go out the front.

He took a few tentative steps when the ship swayed backwards, then froze as it swayed forward in the breeze. Timing was everything, and when the next breeze hit, pushing the ship backwards, he ran against the slope and launched himself through the hole and into the treetops.

"_Oh, Karabast!"_ He shouted, grasping for branches and falling several feet through the treetops before landing on a large solid branch. He let out a groan, laying there for a moment to catch his breath. Using his monkey-gecko-like feet to grip the nearest branch, he slowly began climbing down once he'd recovered. It was harder than it seemed with some branches far enough apart that he had to switch trees, and soon he was sever yards over from where he had been. He kept climbing down, but it seemed like he was going nowhere. He paused to take a rest on one branch and looked around. This could be any forest planet. Florn, Kashyyyk, Mantessa. He couldn't quite remember where they would have been when the ship crashed—which is inevitably what had happened considering the state of the Phantom—so pinpointing the planet exactly was going to be a pain until he got to see some of the wildlife. Or a map.

He heard something nearby and perked his ears up, gazing around in the treetops when he was a familiar head of brightly-colored hair.

Sabine lay suspended by vines in the trees just below the dangerously-swaying ship. She was unconscious, probably had been for awhile, and he legs were tightly tangled in the vines. From the angle she lay below the ship, it was possible she'd fallen out and by some amount of sheer luck fallen into the vines. That or she'd jumped and miscalculated the risk of doing so.

Zeb stood up from his branch and searched for a way to get to her. Seeing no clear easy path of branches, he looked around and managed to gather some vine into his arms. He tied shorter lengths of vines together, then threw them up and over the branch above his head, tying them in place. He tested the strength of the vine for a second by yanking on it, then stepped as far out on the branch as he could before it began to bend under his weight.

"One," he said softly, wrapping the vine around his arm so he could maintain a good grip, "two," he edged back. "Three!" He ran forward, launching himself from the branch and swung forward, just barely managing to get himself onto the branch of a tree closer to Sabine. He let go of the vine, flailing his arms for balance as he gripped the tree with his toes, and pitched forward onto a lower branch.

High above, he heard a sound that made his stomach drop. The branches beneath the ship had started to creak and groan louder, and he heard the unmistakable sound of splintering wood. He looked up and watched as the ship pitched forward and slipped down the trees. He shielded his face as huge chunks of branches began falling through and crashing to the ground.

"Sabine!" He called in an attempt to rouse her so she could try to get out of the way in time. She didn't respond, and he frantically looked for another way to reach her more quickly as vines wrapped around the ship above began snapping like rubber bands, releasing the ship from their hold.

He growled, clenching his fists, and backed up as far as he could go on the branch. He tapped his leg, making sure his bandage was secure, then bolted forward and pushed as hard off of the branch as he could, flinging himself into the next tree. He kept doing this until he reached the same tree Sabine was suspended from. He frantically climbed the tree, ignoring the sharp stinging pain in his leg and forcing himself high and higher into the tree until he was above her.

He leaned forward off the tree and grabbed the vines that had her, pulling her up to him and quickly worked to unbind her. He noticed the odd color and look of her legs as he worked, but tried to ignore it in favor of working quickly. Just as he freed her, he heard the horrifying sound of the ship tilting fully forward and plunging through the treetops.

He slung her over his shoulder and frantically looked for an escape, throwing himself through the air to the nearest tree. Sabine nearly fell from his shoulder as he grasped urgently for branches and managed to snag one. He got as far as he could out on it and looked up as the ship thundered to the ground, taking out trees and branches. He pulled Sabine to his chest and turned his back to the cascade of metal and wood.

With a resounding crash that filled the entire forest, he felt the tree they were in shift and wane, rocketing towards the ground. He climbed to the reverse side as it fell, holding on tight until the tree had completely collapsed, jarring the pair off of it and into the thick tangle of bush below.

Zeb looked at Sabine as he lay in the bushes. She was breathing, but badly wounded.

He moved to rise, to get to her, then felt a sharp pain and blackness consumed him.

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><p>Sabine was crying.<p>

She didn't know it, she was so out of it, but she was crying and she couldn't stop herself. She was in so much pain. Her legs felt like they were on fire and a thousand needles were sticking into her flesh. She just wanted to make it stop. She cried out, struggling to fight the fire feeling. She screamed for help and cried until it hurt to let the tears fall.

And when the darkness came, she let it, because it made the pain stop.

She woke up on the ground.

She wasn't sure how she'd gotten there, but she lay on the ground and the pain was still there but it was dull and it was good because it told her she was alive.

She remembered holding onto someone.

She remembered their hand in hers as they careened towards the forest and she held them, held their already bleeding body in her grasp and told them they would be alright. Everything was hot, so hot and so painful and she had scratches on her palms where their hands had been ripped away from hers. The scratches stung and so did the memory and she felt the feelings come, but she needed to push them aside. She needed to make sure she was okay and find her friends and the one who had been ripped away.

She sat up slowly and looked up into the trees.

Had she fallen from the trees? She had been sucked out of the ship when it had been torn apart in the atmosphere, and landed in the trees, she remembered as the pain came back to her foggy mind. But now she was on the ground.

She didn't dare look at her legs. She could already feel that they were badly wounded and she didn't want to know the extent just yet.

She held herself up on her arms and looked around. Pieces of ship and tree had fallen like rain around her, and she counted herself lucky as she stared at the fallen tree nearby and the large shards of metal sticking like spears into the ground just beside her head. She could have easily been killed by one of those.

Groaning.

Sabine looked around. She had heard groaning.

Nearby, she could see something sticking out from under a large branch. She reached for her blasters and found only one in her hip holsters. Where had the other gone? She had a faint memory of handing it over to someone, but who? Who had her other blaster? And were they still around to give it back to her?

She remembered the scratches on her palms.

Staring at the pile of splintered wood, she called, "Whoever you are, come out with your hands, paws, claws—or other appendages—up," she held her blaster firmly with one hand, using the other to keep herself sitting up straight.

One purplish hand came into view, then another, then an entire body. Familiar green eyes stared out at her under a thicket of leaves and branches.

"Don't shoot, Sabine," Zeb groaned, slowly rising and brushing the leaves away, "It's just me," he limped out from the thicket and came towards her, plopping down on a log and massaging his sore leg. The bandage was intact, but blood was seeping through it faster than would have been hoped for with such thick material. It was already nearly useless.

"Zeb," she put her blaster away, "You're alive."

"Same to you," he grunted, looking her over, "Any clue what happened?"

She shook her head, a concerned look coming over her face, "I remember crashing, or at least right before we crashed anyways, but I don't remember why. We were in hyperspace, right?"

He shrugged, "I remember even less. We were on the Ghost and then we were here."

"Then why did we crash in the Phantom?" She gazed at the wreckage all around, "And where's the other half of it?"

He was quiet, studying her. He didn't know what had happened, and honestly it wasn't important at the moment. What was important, was that her legs looked like they'd gone through a meat grinder, "Sabine," he got up and came over, "I don't know how long you were hanging there," he pointed up at the treetops, "But your legs-"

"I know." She looked down, finally observing her legs. They were marred with bruises and discolored beyond comprehension. She could tell she had at least one major break in her right leg, and wasn't sure about the other, but it was worse off in color than the broken one. She placed her hands over the torn fabric of her pantlegs and shuddered. She could barely feel the contact.

"Can you walk?"

She shook her head, "I don't think so. I can barely feel them."

Zeb nodded, rising and walking away, "Wait here," he said in a low voice.

"Where are you going?"

"Just wait here."

"Like I'm going anywhere any time soon!" She shouted as he disappeared into the pile of mangled ship parts and twisted trees.

When he returned, he was carrying what appeared to be the straps from the seats of the Phantom passenger seats, as well as a long sheet of metal that had been torn off in the crash. He came over, silently kneeling down beside her, and didn't look up as he slid the belts under he legs and gently bound them together as straight as he could make them.

"Okay, I get the binding, but what's this for?" She pointed at the metal sheet, "Snowboarding? Little dry out here, Zeb."

He sighed and said nothing again, turning and grabbing the edge of the metal, bending it into a sharp angle on the bottom edge and sides, thankful that it was just some interior siding and not the thick outer shell so that he could easily maneuver it. Satisfied, he walked around to the front and bent the top until there were two handle-like protrusions. He stepped over to her, picking her up, and placed her on top of the sheet.

"You can't walk and I'm not carrying you," he said, grabbing the handles, "So I'll pull you."

Sabine was quiet as he began walking, looking at the binding on her legs and at the sheet, turning and gazing at his leg where blood was seeping through in large amounts as he walked along. She cleared her throat, "Wait," she said.

He looked over his shoulder, "I'm not leaving you behind."

"Not that. Come here."

He frowned and dropped the sheet clumsily, then came around to the front of her, "Karabast, what is it now?"

She gestured for him to come close, and when he was at her level, she tore off part of her pants that had already been shredded and leaned forward a little, tying it around his head and over his eye, "You should have bandaged that, too,"

He frowned, putting his hand over the cloth and feeling it, "I had," he grumbled, rising, "But keeping you from being crushed to death seemed more important than chasing after it when it flew off."

He returned to the front and continued walking, dragging her along behind him.

They were both quiet for awhile, watching the passing debris and looking for signs of their friends. They observed the treetops as they went by, and when nightfall came, they stopped and made a fire. It would be hours before they could set out again, too dark and dangerous with so much debris around to try and continue tonight.

Zeb left her by the fire for awhile, and when he returned he had a small string of ruggers strung around his neck with a rudimentary snare he'd made with some vines and sticks. He skinned, bled, and skewered them, roasting them over the fire so they could eat, and sighed as he watched the sky.

"I wonder where we are," he said, mostly to himself.

"Endor," Sabine said, pointing into the sky, "There's the planet. We must be on the moon, Endor. Forest, ruggers, I saw some lantern birds flying by earlier..." she put her rugger meat down and idly rubbed at her legs. "What were we doing so far out here?"

Zeb was quiet for a moment, studying the planet in the sky, "You should get some sleep. I'll take first watch."

Sabine didn't protest, but she didn't agree.

Neither of them slept that night.

* * *

><p>In the morning, they walked for a long time more, coming across various parts of the ship that they ended up looting for supplies. Bandages and containers for food and water were the priority, but they also managed to find some tools that could come in handy. Just as the sun was getting far enough into the sky to light everything flawlessly, they came across the other half of the Phantom laying in the burned-out wreckage of a sparse section of trees.<p>

"Hera?" Sabine called, looking around the debris, "Kanan?" She sighed when she heard nothing and hung her head, concerned that her friends were lost. If the Phantom and the Ghost had crashed, what were the chances they'd all survived?

Slim.

"_Karabast,"_ Zeb said, stopping and letting go of the metal. "How'd this get here?" He studied his Bo-Rifle, picking up from the ground and swinging it about for a moment. It seemed to be in great condition despite the amount of blood he noticed on it. He swung it onto his back and looked around, seeing the signs of a struggle all around.

"Do you think it was one of them?" Sabine called as Zeb wandered around the clearing, following the trail of blood to the base of a tree, then around to the shelter below it. "Look at this shelter. Ezra, maybe?" She wished she could stand and help him look around, but with nothing more than to sit there, she took to spying around the clearing.

"If it was Ezra, he's probably dead," he pointed to the blood, "Look at all the blood out here. Good riddance." Crossing his arms over his chest, he felt a pang of guilt for saying it, but suppressed any thoughts that Ezra might _actually _be dead.

"You don't mean that, Zeb."

"Of course I don't," he paused, grabbing the metal and beginning to walk, "But if he was here I would've," he insisted, thinking about his playful taunting of the boy.

They were both quiet for some time as they walked on, Sabine eying the site as it slipped into the distance, "What happens if we don't find him? I mean, if we find Kanan and Hera but not Ezra?" She knew what the real answer would be. No man left behind. But he could be dead. He could be a captive of the empire. He could be lying in the den of a vicious beast being slowly eaten when it was convenient for his meaty carcass to be there. He could be alive and looking for them.

"Kanan'll insist we stick around 'til we do," Zeb grunted, "He's probably already got him, since he can _sense_ him and all," he hoped Kanan had him. He hoped somebody else had found somebody else and they weren't all spread out across the moon, lost in the forest in search of their fallen crew.

"Okay," Sabine said with concern echoing in her tone, "but what if he doesn't? Big forest."

"Bigger moon," he noted as they passed more scattered remnants of their ship. In truth, the entire ship may not have even made it to the ground. It could have broken up in the atmosphere, or burned to a crisp as it rocketed towards the surface. They could be the only survivors of whatever had cause their ship to fall from the sky.

They walked for a long time still until the sun began to set, then made camp again, this time building a small tent in the style of the one they'd found in the clearing. Maybe Ezra, Kanan, or Hera would come across it in the morning and find use of it. Or better yet, find traces of them here and keep looking until they were all together again.

As howls filled the night air, Zeb and Sabine realized it was going to be a long night.

* * *

><p>x-x-x-x-x<p>

* * *

><p>So there's chapter two. I'd like to thank everyone on here and on tumblr that messaged me and told me I should do a chapter for each character, because honestly I was just going to follow Ezra, but this worked out so well and it helps to make the chapters longer by following different people and linking the events together.<p>

So here we finally get a little glimpse at what happened with Sabine's faint memory of someone-who was already injured-clinging to her as they came down to the planet. We'll have to see where that leads as we go along! As always feel free to leave a review or message me here, on twitter or tumblr (links on my profile!) if you have any ideas, suggestions, or prompts you'd like me to try writing!


	3. Hera

Because literally everyone has been asking for it, here it is, we now can find out what happened to our resident mother, Hera. Please excuse any factual errors here, I'm not feeling very well today and wrote this in between naps and medication breaks.

* * *

><p>The sky was growing dark and the nighttime chill was settling over the forest yet it still felt hot with the forest burning in every direction that the debris had dropped into. All around it was bright with fire, especially around where the main piece of the Ghost had fallen. The trees here had been doused with fuel and burned hotter and brighter than anything, yet the thick forest beyond seemed to be pitch black, absorbing all the light and casting the world below in shadow. The dark regions were filled with dangerous creatures, but here, in the fire, only those that had failed to escape on time were left. Smaller creatures who hadn't had the means to escape when the hull of the Ghost had come crashing down upon them scurried to the edges of the fire then back, racing around the cleared-out patch.<p>

Most of the Ghost had broken apart when it hit the atmosphere, but some large pieces had fallen as one. The ramp of the cargo bay lay halfway in a lake, and halfway angled into the sky like a ramp to the heavens, ripped from the bay itself which lay in pieces around the entire forest.

Hera Syndulla lay beside the ramp, her body half-submerged in the cold water, unconscious as the fire blazed all around her. She was injured, not fatally, but most importantly her lekku had a multitude of razor-thin cuts covering the surface of both of them from where she'd had been thrown from the cockpit of the ship, through the glass, and onto the ground when it crashed. The half of the cockpit that had made the fall in one piece was a ways away, half-buried in the ground.

She awoke, coughing, as her body seized and demanded air. She threw herself over to her side and hacked, coughing a lungful of water into the dirt beside her. She lifted her head, looking around as the world came into focus. She surveyed the wreckage around her and shakily rose to her feet, steadying herself with a hand on the ramp and leaning on it as she continued to cough.

"Hello?" she called hoarsely. She looked around, looking for signs of her crew, but saw nothing to indicate life. She took a hesitant step forward towards her ship, on high guard as she gazed around with each step. She placed her hand on the hull and sighed, looking it over, "What happened to you, baby?" She whispered.

Nearby, something clattered noisily in a pile of debris.

Hera reached for her blaster, but paused when she heard a familiar grumbling in droidspeak. She dropped her hand from her side and stepped forward, "Chopper?"

The little droid popped out of the debris pile with a noise of surprise, coming towards her. He flailed one arm in the air, making high-pitched whistles and noises at her.

She watched as he came close and frowned, kneeling down to his level, despite the dizzying feeling it gave her to shift down so quickly, "Even you didn't make it through unscathed, huh?" she said, observing the joint where his second arm would normally be, but only finding the first half of it waving and grinding on the gear. His outer covering was badly cracked and bent—more so than before—and several of the hatches that could open for tools were jammed shut with bent corners and damaged covers.

She rose back to her feet, looking around. She could see fire in the distance beyond the darker parts of the forest, and what was clearly an area of trees cleared out by a crash, but it was far away and she was bleeding badly from her lekku. She needed to find her crew, but more importantly she needed to clean her wounds and patch herself up before she could go anywhere.

She looked at the half-sunken ship and stepped over, using some peeled-up bits of the hull to hoist herself up and walked across the surface of the ship into the remaining half of the cockpit. There was a first aid kit inside, if she could get to it, and food supplies just beyond the doors. If she could get them open, she could scour the ship for signs of everyone else and prepare for the worst at the same time.

"Come on, Chopper," she said, waving to the droid, and hopped in through the broken glass.

She looked around the cockpit, glancing at her seat. It was covered in glass and blood, as was the dash and part of the outside of the ship. She shuddered and looked at the controls. All the switches were still flipped and wrappers for rations lay on the floor as well as some dishes. What had happened?

She brushed the glass out of the chair and sat down, running her hands over the controls and closing her eyes, breathing slowly and willing for something to come back to her.

"_Another successful mission. I'll contact Fulcrum to set up a rendezvous point to drop off the goods,"_

_ "Here," _she remembered Kanan saying as he took a seat next to her, his hand outstretched and offering her a plate. Sabine had made dinner. Some kind of soup. She hadn't gotten to taste it. _"You haven't eaten all day, have some."_ Her stomach growled a little. She hadn't eaten now either.

_"As soon as I contact Fulcrum I'll eat,"_

Chopper had come screaming into the room then. He had been talking so fast she'd only caught part of it. _Bomb._

She remembered staring at the scan of the ship in disbelief. After they had taken off, or maybe before, someone had attached a bomb or grenade to the ship. It was wedged to the underside of the ship and there was a second, smaller one, under the attachment point for the Phantom, it had to have been put there before the Phantom reattached.. She remembered running with Kanan to the back of the ship. Warning everyone. They had plans to get everyone off the ship and leave it on autopilot until Chopper diffused it, then they'd come back.

But they'd miscalculated. The bomb had a shorter fuse than expected and they hadn't had time to even leave hyperspace before it exploded. She remembered being blown out of hyperspace and steering the ship towards the nearest celestial body, trying to talk to everyone to make sure they'd gotten onto Phantom and away before the smaller bomb had gone off, but internal comm had been knocked out in the first blast and the shields had been down. If they hadn't been on Phantom and safely away in time, they could—would—have died.

She stoop up from her chair. She didn't want to think about it any more. They had to have gotten away in time. They had to have gotten away and survived.

She cast a glance towards the half of the cockpit that hadn't made it in the crash. Had Kanan still been there when it was torn away?

She heard Chopper clatter in through the broken glass and looked up, "Alright, come on, Chopper. Lets search the ship, and then we'll see if we can get anything running to make an emergency signal so they can find us out here."

They spent hours walking what was left of the ship and scavenging for food and useful equipment. They found several weapons scattered around and gathered them up just in case, then found the first aid kit and moved back to the cockpit to get to work on bandaging up Hera's wounds. Hera gently ran a cleansing wipe over the cuts, hissing and cringing as the alcohol stung her wounds. She carefully used a needle to stitch up the worst wounds, simply wrapping the others, then threw the kit into a bag she'd found along with any food she wasn't going to eat, and any tools she didn't need to get some working parts from the ship.

They first worked to get the comm online, using auxiliary power from Chopper to power the system, then amplified it as best they could into a singular tonal beep. It wouldn't reach far, but with some tweaking it might reach far enough to reach someone useful. Hopefully the crew had landed the Phantom somewhere nearby and were just waiting the night out before they tried to search for her.

She laid the bag on the ground with a blanket and closed the cockpit doors from the wreckage of the ship. She'd make camp inside here for the night, then set out in the morning. She changed clothes quickly, shedding the still-dripping wet clothes, and lay down. She thought about how she'd woken up that day, heaving water out of her body. Had she been drowning?

"Chopper," she said after a moment of silence, "Did you reach into the water to save me?"

Chopper made a small grumbling noise in response and she smiled a little, rolling onto her side and facing the wall.

"Thanks."

She dozed off with her blaster firmly clutched in her hand.

She woke up to a crash and rolled over, holding herself up with one arm and aiming her blaster with the other, "Hands up!" she called to no one. Chopper was gone and she sat up quickly, throwing her coverings off and grabbing the bag. She crawled up onto the dash and out the window, looking around, "Chopper?" she called urgently. She didn't see him, but she did see footprints leading away from the ship. She ran down the front and stumbled when her foot caught on some metal. She stumbled, sliding off the front of the ship, landing hard on her wrist. She cried out softly, rising and looking around.

"Chopper!" She called more loudly, looking around frantically as she circled the ship and began wandering through the wreckage. She followed the footprints, even as they entered the woods. She followed the footprints until they disappeared into the underbrush, but still she found no trace of her droid, and now she was far from the ship, farther than she would like. She turned to double back, but found she didn't know which way she'd come from, and in the daylight it was hard to see any of the remaining fire.

She looked around, clutching her blaster tightly, and began walking in the direction the footprints had disappeared in, but even then she was sure at some point that she was going a different direction. As the morning dragged on, she eventually stopped walking and sat down to go through her rations. She had a few cases of dried bread and little sticks of preserved meat, but with nothing to drink she feared these would dehydrate her and immediately put them back in her bag.

She resumed her searched after some time, cradling her arm to her chest as she noticed her fall on it had sprained her wrist. It was turning a deep purple, but she couldn't afford to waste bandages on wrapping it. If it wasn't bleeding, she didn't need it. She stopped and found a long length of vine that she used as an impromptu wrapping when the pain called for more attention to be given to it.

When the sun began to set, she found a hollow tree and made a small camp inside of it, pulling several large pieces of wood over the hole to protect herself and resting sitting up with her blaster in hand. She wondered where her droid had gone. Had he been taken by some indigenous forest-dweller, or had he wandered off? Without the help from him to make the signal, she had no way to notify her crew of her location, and was stranded until she could find another way to do so.

She heard howling nearby as darkness engulfed the world and listened to the frantic noises of hungry animals in the night. They sounded feral in nature, and she could hear the sounds of a scuffle not far away. It sounded like they had hunted something down and were trying to finish it off as loud cries and wild howls filled the air.

Once or twice she swore the noises sounded almost human, but there was no telling if it was without exposing herself and risking injury. She clamped her hands over her ears, blocking out the noise as best she could. She had to stay put—for her sake and that of her crew if they were out there—no matter how much she wanted to go and help the poor creature.

When dawn came, she moved out and began to call out. After a few hours, she found herself right back at the crash site and threw down her bag, exasperated and frustrated. Every bit of the forest looked exactly the same and now here she was, no closer to getting off of this planet. She fell to her knees and nearly cried, but kept herself together beyond taking her frustration out on the earth. She gripped the grass and ripped it from the dirt, then pounded her fists a little. When she'd calmed down, she stayed on the ground, breathing heavily.

"Hera?"

Her head shot up, nearly injuring her neck, and she felt tears prick her eyes.

"Kanan."

He was injured. Badly. He was dragging his left leg a little,walking with the use of two lengths of tree branch, and he had a gash across the front of his chest and cuts down his arms.

She got up and ran to him, nearly tackling him to the ground as she threw her arms around his shoulders and hugged him tightly, briefly letting her emotions get the best of her as she cried against him a little. She didn't even pay attention to the small noise of pain he made when her body mad impact with his, she just needed to hold onto him for a second.

She heard one of the sticks clatter to the ground and started to left her head until she felt his hand brush lightly down her tchun. She shuddered lightly and hugged him more tightly, then let go and stepped away, wiping her face quickly so he wouldn't see her tears.

"Are you alone?" Hera looked into his eyes.

"Are you?" He said with some effort as he stepped towards the ship and leaned on it, taking some pressure away from his injured leg.

"I wasn't... Chopper was here when I came to, but this morning he was gone."

"Is that why your beacon stopped?"

She looked at him, "You heard it?"

He nodded, slowly easing himself onto the ground. He'd woken up to the sound of the echoing beep and had pulled himself through the forest in the dead of night to try and find the source. He'd hoped it was Hera. He'd hoped it was anyone, really, but more than anything Hera. She'd have a level enough head to make a beacon for help, and she'd know to gather her supplies and be ready for anything. He needed anything at that moment, with his leg twisted and broken from where he'd been flung from the ship. He remembered his landing on the planet. He'd been awake for it.

As the ship had hurtled towards the ground and the cockpit ripped in two, he'd climbed out on the top of the ship and jumped when he thought he'd survive the fall. He'd survived, alright, but not without significant damage. Hera couldn't see it, but after he'd fallen and broken his leg, he'd smacked his head along a ridge of rocks. He'd been out for hours after that and only come to when the smell of smoke from the fire and alerted him to danger. He'd stopped most of the bleeding by making a mud pack, but he could still feel the warm blood seeping out around the pack. He needed

The gash hadn't come until night, when he lay by the base of a tree attempting to get a little rest and fought off some of the indigenous boar-like creatures that took some offense to his being there. Luckily the wound wasn't too serious—he couldn't say the same for the creatures. Their long tusks and sharp snapping jaws wouldn't be doing anyone any damage ever again.

Kanan and Hera looked at each other, then around at the destruction of their ship—their home. If they were out here, alone, they could only hope that the others were together and safe on the Phantom. Or safe, at least, but neither of them could recall if the trio had gotten to the Phantom in time to escape, or if their fate was more grim than that of their own.

They spent the remainder of the day patching Kanan up, setting his leg as best they could, and stitching closed his head wound-of which Hera was most concerned that he had waited to tell her about- preparing a bag of more supplies that he could carry without much effort before they set out away from the crash site. If they didn't find Chopper and their crew, hopefully the crew would find them.

* * *

><p>On finishing this chapter, I had thought about doing one just so we could see how Kanan had come out of it all, but really his day was about as slow as Hera's was. he woke up, assessed his situation, and got on his way when he heard her beacon. From there he slept briefly and got in a fight, then found her and that's about it. Instead of carrying on with another slow chapter, I just put his story in here in a brief explanation so we can get on with the kids and try to reunite this family.<p>

If anyone would like to see specific things come from these characters, their injuries, or learn about their approximate location from each other (IE: those sounds Hera heard were NOT Kanan fighting the borra, but EZRA fighting off the gurreck) always feel free to message me here, on my twitter (link on my profile) or on tumblr (link in my profile) and I'll be more than happy to chit-chat.

As I said at the top, I apologize for any problems this chapter may have-I'm a bit ill at the moment and wrote this in chunks between naps (both planned and unplanned...this new chair is apparently a little too comfortable for my sickly self) and breaks to take medicine, so my writing flow kept getting broken.


	4. Monotony

_ The explosion was deafening. _

_ Glass and metal pierced the windows and tore through the craft like a tornado, blasting the passengers with shards and spears of their essence. The entire cockpit was filled with shrapnel from the bomb and bits of ship._

_ Zeb covered his face as glass whipped past and sliced over his brow, blood dripping down into his vision and stinging at his eye. Sabine threw her arms up and felt the glass and metal slice her flesh even from her place behind the front seats, while Ezra cried out in pain in the front seat as he took the brunt of the blow, his arms and face getting cut and a sharp pain coming to his left leg. He clenched his fists tightly on the steerage and tried to shut out the pain, straining against the buckles holding him to the seat as he pressed buttons and flipped switches. The shuttle was rocketing towards the planet surface, spiraling out of control as Ezra desperately pulled and pushed on the controls, fighting to gain some semblance of control back to the shuttle as they broke the atmosphere and hurtled towards the ground. _

_ "Zeb, Sabine, strap in!" He managed to shout over the noise as he unbuckled himself and moved towards the back seats. There was no stopping the ship. The bomb had taken out most everything in the shuttle, and now all that remained useful were the emergency lights and shields, though they wouldn't hold for much longer. The safest place to be would be where the impact would be the least and the chance for impalement by foreign objects was minimal. He watched as Zeb strapped himself in to the back and struggled to get to a seat as artificial gravity shut down and he found himself sliding towards the open windows. Fear gripped his throat as he glanced behind him at the planet far below, and he pulled himself inches closer to one of the back seats. The shuttle was increasing in speed alarmingly fast now, breaking apart in the atmosphere as pieces of metal peeled and broke away in the fall._

_ "Ezra!" Sabine called, standing and reaching her hand out for him, her other hand wrapped around the buckles of her seat so she could pull him back with her. He grasped her hand and she used all of her strength to pull herself back to the seat and buckle in again, but Ezra couldn't make it up into a seat. He held on desperately to her hand, his nails digging into the skin of her palm. "Ezra, hold on!" Sabine shouted over the screeching of metal. The shields went down in that moment, and they struggled to breathe properly as the pressure released and the clean air seemed to be sucked out of the ship, being replaced with much thinner air that made their heads feel light and fuzzy._

_ Ezra dragged himself closer to Sabine, gripping the seat beside her with his other hand. He saw his backpack sliding towards the front of the ship and stuck his leg out to catch it, feeling an immense pain as it impacted his upper thigh. He cried out, releasing the seat and touching his leg. He brought his hand to his face and paled at the sight of the blood that coated his fingers—remembering the pain from earlier—and gripping the seat once more, he looked at Sabine as the ship gave a mighty scream and began to tear apart._

_ The trio looked towards the front of the ship as pieces began to break apart. They were miles from the ground still and were quickly running out of ship to break away. _

_ Ezra heard the shriek of the metal as it began to break away, and in that moment he felt the pull as the ship began to split in two. He felt his nails rake down Sabine's hand and suddenly found himself sliding to the other end of the ship. Casting a desperate glance backwards just before the metal tore away like crumbling bread, he saw Sabine struggling to undo her buckles. _

_ "EZRA!"she cried out as he—and the other half of the ship—spiraled away to a separate sect of jungle. _

_ The ground shook with the impact and Ezra was vaguely aware of his head slamming against the floor. He stared up through the open window at the tree that had uprooted on impact and was vaguely aware of the fire that began spreading through the treetops. The world was spinning above him as he slid his hand along his leg to find the piece of metal that had pierced him._

_ He gripped it tight, feeling it bite into the soft flesh of his hand, and let out a blood-curdling scream as he began wrenching it from his leg. It hurt so much, so much that he screamed until his throat felt raw and the smoke that filled his lungs felt like relief compared to the pain in his leg. He could hear the squelching of his own blood as he pulled the shard free, and when it was done, darkness consumed him._

Ezra awoke with a start almost powerful enough to knock himself from the tree. He gripped the branch under him, breathing heavily, a cold sweat trickling over every inch of his body. Pushing the hair away from his eyes, he gazed around, still trying to shake the dream as he took deep breaths. His leg was sore, sore and bleeding wide again. The pseduo-bandages he'd placed around the wound were soaked through with blood and he felt every bit of pain as he shifted his leg and began to descend the tree. He needed to find a new solution to his problem.

How many days had it been since waking up from the crash? Five? Six? It felt like forever as days blurred together between sleep, travel, and gathering food. At some point Ezra had slipped into a routine of existing in the forest. He had taken to sleeping in the trees, despite the pain it caused him to climb up high enough to avoid anything too dangerous—even thought he hadn't seen any of the cat-like creatures since that first night—blaster in hand and awake half the night until he was so exhausted that he physically couldn't stay awake any longer.

He would wake up late into the next day and climb down if he could manage it, gather some supplies, wash his bandages and let them dry out in the sun, then rewrap and ascend another tree again before the sun set. He'd managed to eat enough to sustain him and he had been following the stream so he wouldn't get too lost in the woods, but with debris growing more and more scarce as the days went on, he was considering turning around and following it in the other direction. Maybe he'd find someone else using the same trick, or maybe he'd come across someone else in the wreckage.

After he climbed down the tree this morning, he hobbled to the stream and washed his bandages, rewrapped when they were dry, and used more bits of his clothes to try and fill in the hole in his leg. It was tender all around the wound and he had to bite into a stick to resist screaming as he washed the edges of the wound. When he had cleaned and stuffed it again, he began walking against the current back the way he came. He saw signs of his previous dwellings in the trees, snapped branches and areas where bark had been peeled away by his scramble to the top, and took shelter in the familiar places when he would grow tired. He napped beneath the shade of one tree for some time, regaining as much strength as he could, and dreamt again.

_"Karabast," Zeb grumbled at him as they made their way to the rendezvous point after the mission, "You're not good for anything, are you, kid?" He rubbed at a sore spot on his ribs where he'd taken a nasty hit from the butt end of a blaster during a scuffle. The scuffle would have been avoided if Ezra hadn't tripped over some scrap metal, but when he had, he'd alerted a small group of stormtroopers. Avoiding alerting any more, they'd disposed of them quickly by hand, but Zeb hadn't walked away without injury. "Next time I'd rather be teamed up with Chopper, at least he'd understand the meaning of stealth."_

_ "It's not my fault you're not fast enough to dodge a hit."_

_ "Why you little-" he raised his hand to knock him upside the head, but paused when Kanan spoke up._

_ "We need to get these crates loaded up and out of here before the Empire misses them, so lets go."_

He would walk through the night now, not knowing how far he was going or how long he'd been walking until the sun rose again and permitted him the light to see his own trail, often stumbling through most of the night over pieces of debris and at some point he found it pointless to stop and wash his wrappings. He could feel something calling to him ahead and he needed to reach it.

Was it the force calling him to Kanan? Or to his friends? Could he sense them ahead of him, or was it just an inkling?

Whatever it was, he followed it until three more days had passed and he felt the need for sleep calling to him more urgently than the other feeling was.

He stumbled his way to a shelter near a tree and thought nothing of it until he observed the size of it. This wasn't the shelter he had built so many days ago, but a much larger one, modeled after his pitiful shack. He crawled inside and curled up on the floor of it, coughing painfully into his fist as he tried to find warmth for himself.

Fearing the worst, he rolled to his side and unwrapped the large wound in his leg for observation. The lack of care over the past few days had left the bandaging damp with blood, and the wound itself had become more tender than before, streaks of red moving in every direction away from the wound, and it was warm and tender to the touch. He felt ill just looking at it, knowing his neglect during his travels had left it to become infected.

He rewrapped it and hugged himself, laying on the floor of the shack and crying softly late into the night until a high fever and the feeling of complete exhaustion overtook him and he fell into a restless sleep.

_"Ezra, I want you to take this,"_

_Ezra took the blaster in his hand and observed it briefly, before pushing it back into Sabine's hands, "I don't need it," he grinned crookedly, "I've got this."_

_ She shoved it back at him, a stern look on her face, shaking her head at his stubborn behavior, "This mission is going to take everything we've got, and what we've got is a kid who only has a slingshot that shoots vaguely shocking balls of electricity at people. You need a real weapon for this mission, Ezra, so you're taking this blaster and you're giving it back to me next time we see each other, got it?"_

_ "Ma'am, yes, ma'am," he said with a playful tone to his voice._

Ezra awoke slowly this time.

He stared at the ceiling, thinking about Sabine's blaster. He groped for it in his surroundings and found it by his it to his face, he studied it closely, running his fingertips along the grooves of the weapon, then lay it down on his chest as he recalled the mission.

The mission had gone off nearly without a hitch and he hadn't had to use it at all, but after the crash was an entirely different story. During the mission, Kanan had encouraged him to use the force for his defense, rather than shooting, so the gun had simply collected dust in his pocket until they had gotten back to the Ghost and he'd been on his way to return it to Sabine when...

_"We need to evacuate until Chopper can deactivate the bomb."_

_ "And if he can't deactivate it?"_

_ "Let's just hope he can."_

He hadn't even gotten to thank her for the use of it when he'd gotten on the Phantom. He recalled bringing it aboard and setting it on the dash before him, planning on returning it when things had calmed down and they were drifting lazily through space waiting for a transmission from Chopper, but that had never come. Kanan and Hera hadn't even gotten on the Phantom with them before the bomb detonated and sent them rocketing to the ground.

He shuddered and shoved the blaster away across the shelter, turning his back to it and curling up. Who knows if Kanan and Hera had somehow survived the explosion or the crash, or if Sabine and Zeb had gotten out of the Phantom's wreckage alive.

What would he do, stranded on a strange planet he'd never been to, without his family?

He blinked through tears that gathered in his eyes and rolled onto his side again, curling up as tightly as he could manage without causing himself more pain. If he could just fix his stupid leg, he'd be able to search for them as much as he liked, and he wouldn't be stranded alone in the forest.

He placed his hands over the bandaged wound in his leg and imagined it healed, he imagined the wound closed up and the infection gone, and as exhaustion overwhelmed his body, he would swear the wound almost felt better.

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><p>Had considered adding the next chapter onto this instead of making it a next chapter, but figured we'd continue with the individual-groups-per-chapter deal for now until we see someone reunite with someone else.<p>

This is the last we're going to see of Ezra for a little while, so lets hope that the infection doesn't spread to his heart and kill him, yes? Yes. Okay.

Next chapter we'll get to see some heartfelt reunions for sure, and that's when I'm going to start using some of the ideas I've had submitted to me over the past few days.

Also lets ignore the fact that the end of this chapter is like the end of every chapter I do.

I need to start doing some serious cliffhangers.

And longer chapters.

What kind of sad chapter is only 2500 words long?

As for now, I'm going to take some more medicine and try to sleep until work tomorrow so I don't feel as much like crap as I think I will.

THANKS FOR THE REVIEWS AND ALL THE WELL WISHES! I'm feeling a little better today, so the well wishes are working! Thanks everybody!


	5. Wanderment

Sorry it's been awhile, folks. Been working six day weeks at a toy store during Christmastime. I'm sure someone here knows what that's like.

On that note, sending me vaguely threatening messages on here and tumblr during Christmastime is surely the shittiest way to make me _not_ want to update for you.

But, I digress. Here's the new chapter!

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><p>x-x-x-x-x-x-x<p>

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><p>The sun was just moving into the sky, casting grim shadows over the twisted heap that lay before them. They'd walked all night, on the lookout for any sign of their shipmates, but only finding vague traces where something living—probably not the crew—had rooted through containers that had, at one time, contained food and medical supplies. Most everything had either been strewn out when it hurtled to the ground, or had been opened and completely looted dry. They found a few scraps of food here and there, mostly stuff that required significant amounts of work to make edible, and settled for the supplies they already had on hand.<p>

They now stood in front of the twisted heap that was the front half of the Phantom, staring into the mess as the sun rose far enough to give them light to see by. Kanan had taken to leaning on Hera little more as the night had gone on, growing steadily more weary, but just as unwilling to stop and lose time as Hera had been, and now stood shakily against a tree, his injured leg held halfway into the air as he let his makeshift crutches fall to the side. His other wounds were of little concern now, stitched and on their way to healing, but his leg, even splinted, caused him intense pain even when not in use. The majority of their pain medication had been used up to spare him from the agony.

"Kanan-" Hera had gone pale at the sight of the inside of the ship.

"Don't say it," he held his hand up, glancing into the ship. "Let's just keep moving," he shoved off the tree and balanced on one foot as he reached for his crutches, then tucked them under his arms and started away, "Whoever was in there probably went this way."

She caught up with him, shouldering her bag, her face regaining some of its color, "At least we can trust that all three of them are resourceful," she said with a light smile, looking all around them for traces of life—or something, anyways.

Kanan nodded, a small smile playing at his lips, "Street smarts like Ezra's would keep this whole crew alive for weeks—and Zeb? Too stubborn to die. Sabine too. In fact, they all are, stubborn as falumpasets."

"_We_ all are stubborn," Hera muttered, walking ahead of him, "Stubborn as a Hutt."

Letting out a small laugh, he walked a little faster, just fast enough to jokingly smack her with his tree-crutch before falling in step beside her again, and responded, "So the good news is, we'll all definitely survive this then,"

"Without a doubt,"

They grew quiet after that, observing the scattered remnants of the ship as they went along, stopping to examine the dilapidated lean-to under a tree that had half-collapsed on itself now, and looked around for awhile in the immediate area before deciding that it had been abandoned for awhile. They continued on in silence, only occasionally saying something to one-another about which direction to go, following a sort of natural curve between the trees for awhile until they came to a slight deviation towards the nearby river. They followed it and took a moment to fill some canteens they had on them, then traced back and started on their way again.

"We should mark our path," Hera said after awhile, pausing on the trail. "We've come this far, and by the look of that shack, so had whoever it was. We should leave signs that we've been here. In case they come back this way."

Kanan nodded, reaching for his lightsaber and unholstering it, "How about with this?" He activated it and twisted the nob on the side to shorten the blade, then turned to a nearby tree and balanced against his crutch as he etched a large 'X' into the tree. It smoldered briefly on the edges, then went out, leaving the toasted shape in the tree, "There, works like a charm," he smiled and holstered the saber again, hobbling forward, "Let's keep going."

The sun was starting to set, just getting far enough down that the sky was cast an orange-pink, but not before Kanan and Hera made several more 'X's along the trail and stopped to camp and eat for the night. They'd sparsely snacked through the day, but after not sleeping and barely eating the previous night, they both felt the exhaustion wearing on them. They didn't bother with a shelter, but laid out a blanket Hera had rolled up and fastened to her bag on the softest part of ground they could find, clearing the brush and rocks from under it as they discovered them, and settled in beside a tree, their backs against a shrub.

Hera pulled some ration packs from her bag and passed one to Kanan. The packs were simple, ready-to-eat-style meals with heat packs that activated when the meal was opened so what was supposed to be hot would be hot, and everything else would be whatever temperature it was where you opened it. Sometimes that amounted to a hill of frozen-solid beans, but now everything was pretty much body-temperature or more from being in the pack.

They ate in comfortable silence, sitting close enough for both of them to lean against the tree, Kanan's injured leg stretched out before him and his crutches laying between both of them. He glanced at Hera on occasion, surveying the damage to her in more depth than he'd had the time for when they first reunited with each other, and glancing away whenever she tried to catch him looking. After a few glances, he finally spoke,

"Do they hurt?"

She paused, putting her utensil down and stroking a hand down the back of her head and down her tchun, knowing exactly what he was talking about, "A bit," she said, "But better since I put some medicine on the worst cuts,"

"I'm sorry," he said, putting his own tray down on the blanket.

"For what?"

"If I hadn't said yes to that mission-"

"Let's get one thing straight here," Hera said, jabbing her finger into Kanan's chest as she did, "I presented the mission to you and you said yes, because that's what you do. We knew—know—there are risks to what we do, and we all go into every single mission knowing that. This mission just had a bigger risk to it than we were prepared for, but here we are, mostly whole, nearly completely alive, and we may be scattered, but we're all out here somewhere," she put a hand on his cheek, "We're going to be okay," she said calmly, then picked her food back up and continued eating it wordlessly, staring off into the distance as the sun began settling behind the trees.

Kanan was quiet for awhile, then said, "I'm still sorry about the lekku, at least," he muttered.

"It's not your fault—so I got thrown out of the cockpit of my own ship, worse things have happened," she shrugged, not looking at him.

"Like two bombs blasting your ship—and crew—apart and possibly maiming and or killing that crew?"

There was a long silence between them.

"Yeah," Hera finally said.

Neither of them felt much like eating anymore.

They soon turned to sleeping, Hera laying down on the far end of the blanket, her back turned to Kanan as he sat against the tree, lightsaber in hand, and kept watch for most of the night. Hera needed the most sleep—she'd be the best one if it came to fighting right now—besides, Kanan had become pretty accustomed to virtually sleepless nights in his life, and he couldn't sleep now even if he wanted to.

He was worried.

About Zeb, about Sabine, Ezra, even Chopper, wherever he'd gone off to.

But mostly Ezra.

Sure, the kid had been alone before, but nothing like this. He'd barely set foot on other planets during their missions, he didn't know any other languages, and he was still shaken from the _incident _on the asteroid. He was in no condition to be by himself on a strange planet on the outer rim. Kanan hated to admit it, even to himself, but street smarts wouldn't go very far around here.

He shifted and sat up straight against the tree, crossing his legs as best he could, and closed his eyes, focusing. He took deep, slow breaths in and out, sensing nothing for a long time, and then, at the back of his mind, he felt what seemed like a gentle tug. He focused on that until it became a strong tug, as though the force was trying to grab him and pull him in that direction. He opened his eyes and reached for his crutches, stumbling to his feet.

"I'll be right back," he muttered, looking at Hera's sleeping form. She'd be fine. He would only be gone for a minute. If it took him too long to get where he was going, he'd just come back and they'd go that way in the morning, but for now he needed to try and see for himself.

He hobbled along, lightsaber in one hand, ready to go in case anything happened, and kept following the pull. It led a little ways off the trail, but not so far he couldn't find his way back. As a precaution, he marked a tree every few yards, leaving just a small slash instead of an 'X' in his wake

When he reached a clearing, it stopped.

"Hello?" he called, looking around at the bases of trees, squinting in the darkness, "Ezra?" He said more loudly, "Zeb? Sabine?" He turned around—quite the feat on his crutches—and peered through the darkness, switching his lightsaber off so his eyes could adjust. "Anyone?"

"Anyone?" he heard a familiar voice ring out, his hand automatically jumping as a response and switching the lightsaber back on, filling the clearing with the blueish-white light. "Now you're just settling for substitutes to fill the gaps in your fallen crew," I patch of trees just ahead of him came to life in the darkness as a red hue broke out from behind one of them, "Well then," a tall figure stepped around the tree, "allow me to volunteer."

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><p>x-x-x-x-x-x-x<p>

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><p>LA LA LA LA LA LA SING A HAPPY SONG<p>

and while you do that ill go lay in the corner and think about what ive just set up for

The next update should be within the next week. Now that the holidays are over and kids are going to be heading back to school, I'm only being given ~13 hours a week which is rough from a money standpoint, but great from a life standpoint. Six of one, half a dozen of the other, you know?


	6. The Blind Leading the Lame

Sorry it's nearly a week later than I had promised, mom got fired the other day so I've been picking up extra shifts all week in case she can't get a new job soon enough to pay rent next month. It's been a bit rough working back-to-back shifts, but I finally got some time today to sit down and write, so here it is in the dead of night/eeeeaaaarrly morning.

Also thanks for all the comments on the previous few chapters, I know it's super frustrating that I update slowly and leave weird vague endings, but I find it difficult to wrap up stuff instead of just spewing everything onto the page at once! Cause I already know where some of this is going, it's driving me mad! So weird cutoffs it is in the meantime!

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><p>x-x-x-x-x-x<p>

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><p>"It's strange,"<p>

"What is?"

"How similar the sky here looks to the skies of Lothal," Sabine mused, reclining back against the think twisting roots of the tall tree they'd chosen to camp under. She peered through the branches, watching the twinkling stars and the slow-moving celestial bodies visible from the ground as they traveled through space.

Zeb leaned so he could see through the thick canopy, squinting his good eye at the stars, "I don't see it," he grumbled, leaning back to his original position and shifting so he could be closer to the fire. "Stars are too different, plus Lothal doesn't have a planet that close to it," he jabbed his thumb towards the larger of the celestial bodies.

Sabine huffed, blowing her bangs out of her face as she crossed her arms over her chest. In all their travels, they had never taken the time to just sit and appreciate the beauty of some of the planets they traveled to, but now, stuck here with the single most grumpy person she'd ever known, Sabine and learned she pretty much had to appreciate their situation. At least they were alive. And she supposed, glancing at Zeb briefly, that it wasn't so bad being stuck with Zeb—at least he wasn't constantly trying to impress her, or showering her in unnecessary compliments. "Oh," she said after a moment, putting her hand to her chest before closing her eyes and shaking away the thoughts.

"What?"

She looked at him, making eye contact briefly, then looked back to the sky, "I just realized... I miss Ezra," she said.

They were both quiet for awhile, listening to the crackling fire until it had started to go out, and that's when Zeb got up to find more wood to put on it. He was gone briefly, and she could hear him in the distance shuffling around and drying to find the best wood to use, coming back with an armful of wood. He loaded the fire up, prodded it with the end of his bo-rifle for a bit until it really got going, then looked at the stars as well.

"I-" he started, paused for a long time, then tried again, "I kinda miss, uh, Kanan," he grumbled. "Not a lot, just, you know. Some." He turned his back to her, settling in so he could get some sleep, "Don't tell him I said that."

After he'd dozed off, Sabine slowly shifted and began unwrapping her legs, running her hands down and rubbing them gently. She'd regained some feeling in them, and reveled in the ability to feel the warmth of her own palm against her flesh. The bruising wasn't ideal, and left her cringing at the sight of herself. She tossed the wrappings lightly over them, securing them once more, then leaned back into the base of the tree and slid herself down enough to lay comfortably—or as comfortably as the forest floor would allow—on her side. She dozed off sometime later.

Zeb awoke first.

He pushed off the ground, quickly rising so he could stretch and get the tension out of his muscles—suddenly regretting sleeping mostly sitting up—and looked around. They'd been following the river north for awhile now after they'd found a point where the debris became minimal and decided the most likely place anyone would be is wherever the hull of the ship had crashed, so they'd turned around soon after. They'd crossed the river, hoping to have better luck finding things to eat along the way—they'd managed a small catch of little fluffy rodents and small lizards the first night, then the second they'd only gotten a few lizards and some berries that they hoped weren't poisonous—if they were they hadn't seen the effects yet—and had stored some for later, but so far the odds hadn't been in their favor and they hadn't seen so much as a fish in the river before it got too dark to see. Now, however, as Zeb made his way to the riverbank, he could see some movement in the stream and slowly crept into the tide.

He crouched, shuffling his feet along through the pebbles as he approached the center of the river. It wasn't very wide, but it was slightly cold this early in the morning, and he shivered briefly when his crouch caused his butt to dip into the water. He repositioned, watching the silvery fish swim idly in little paths up and down the riverbed, then pounced, slamming his hands down into the water in hopes of pinning a fish.

He pulled his hands out of the water, only to find them full of nothing more than mud and pebbles. He groaned, chucking the handfuls further up the river, "Karabast!" he shouted, looking around but seeing no signs of the fish, as they'd dispersed further downstream. He rose and, kicking his feet, returned to shore to pout. He trudged back to the campsite, shaking leaves and twigs off of his wet feet as he trudged along, then flopped down beside Sabine, huffing as he did.

Sabine slowly opened her eyes, yawning as she glanced over at him, and sat up, "Morning," she muttered, combing her fingers through her hair which had bark in it and was sticking up on one side, "Sleep well?" she shifted and fidgeted with her legs as she waited for his response, but when she didn't hear one, she turned to look at him, "I sai-" she let out a noise of surprise when one of his big meaty hands plopped over her mouth

"Shh," Zeb held one finger of his other hand to his lips, then slowly took his hand off of her mouth and started to rise. He stared straight ahead, reaching for his bo-rifle as he came to his feet, creeping forward behind a tree, "We're not alone," he said softly.

Sabine pulled her blaster from the holster at her side and looked around, shifting anxiously where she was seated, watching as Zeb leaned around the tree, peering over bushes and squinting this way and that, trying to spot what he'd heard.

Zeb frowned, lowering his weapon marginally and gazing around at the bases and tops of trees as though he'd find some clues there, but saw and heard nothing. It had sounded like talking, but he couldn't pinpoint the language if he tried. He listened intently for a few minutes, trying to find even the faintest trace of the voice, but when he heard nothing, he relaxed and came back to Sabine.

"Time to go," he said, picking her up just long enough to move her to the metal sled-like apparatus so he could pull her. He gripped the handles and started forward up alongside the river in silence.

Sabine twisted around in her seat and watched ahead of them, eyeing the treeline to their left as Zeb continued along, she finally said, "Tree," as he got too close to one. He swerved, avoiding it, and grumbled under his breath. After walking like this for the past day or so, Sabine had noticed Zeb's near-misses when it came to trees 'sneaking up' on his left side. Sabine knew it was because of his bandaged eye, but she hadn't said anything insofar about it beyond the occasional direction or note about things on that side. Mostly trees had managed to get the best of him, but on occasion rocks, logs, and thinck grassy patches had also nearly tripped him up. Twice she'd been unseated by his nearly falling into the river when they'd headed back north, and after that she'd decided to be his eyes.

It only seemed fair-after all, he was being her legs.

A few hours of near-silence passed when they stopped to get some water and dig into the berries they'd stored. They could tell they were getting closer to finding the Ghost, or what was left of it, by the sheer amount of debris cropping up around them. They were just glad that—so far—the river hadn't been tainted by any fuel or particularly nasty bits of ship, at least as far as they could tell. They hoped it would stay that way, too.

"So," Zeb said, after spending the past hour mulling over this sentence in his head, "Do you, uh, think they all survived?" He didn't look at her, and his ears had visibly drooped—instead he stared out over the water glimmering in the afternoon sun.

"Honestly?" Sabine half-whispered. He didn't respond, but she took it as a yes and sighed, "Honestly... Ezra is probably dead."

They were both quiet for awhile longer, quietly chewing the berries and letting the thought sink in. They had discussed it the previous day, what they could remember of the events leading up to the crash, if they knew where everyone had been at the time of the explosion—they'd riddled the explosion out from what they could piece together of everything else—and in that they'd figured out about Ezra's injury.

"Yeah," Zeb finally said, rising from where he'd sat along the riverbank. He paused to shift his bandages, then reached for Sabine, "Let's go," he moved to grab the metal, then shook his head, unwrapping her legs completely and freeing them, then crouching in front of her, his back to her. "Come on,"

She hesitated, "Are you sure? I mean, this is fine," she jutted her thumb out towards the scrap.

"Just get on," he snapped, squaring his shoulders.

She leaned forward, scooting on the ground a little, and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling herself up enough that he could reach back and pull her legs up so that she was being supported fully on his back. He kept his hands under her legs, beginning to walk forward while shifting occasionally to find a good level to carry her at.

From this position, Sabine was able to effectively direct Zeb, steering him away from trees and rocks, all the while keeping a sharp eye for any signs of trouble. She kept her blaster in one hand, ready to shoot if it became necessary.

Again they plodded along in silence, apart from Sabine's directions, until they could see a familiar shape in the distance. While it wasn't whole, they could still make out the majority of what it was.

There, across the river, nestled in a bed of fallen, burnt trees, sat half of the Ghost.

Innards from the ship, including cargo, pieces they recognized as chunks of the escape pods, and some of their own personal items scattered the entire forest around it. They weren't sure where the rest of the ship was—and they were frankly surprised that as much of the ship that lay before them was still mostly whole. They marveled at it for a minute, before Zeb started forward towards the river edge.

He stepped in slowly, trudging across—noticing that the river was deeper here than it had been farther down—and shifted Sabine up higher onto his back so she wouldn't get too wet, but the river still came to his waist in the middle, soaking her legs. When they reached the other side, he hurried forward, careful to not step on anything sharp, and stopped when they came alongside the ship.

"We'll stay here tonight," he said, despite it still being early enough that the sun hadn't quite begun to set.

He carried Sabine up close to the ship and sat her down long enough to find a way inside of the wreck. When he came back for her, he found her holding a small object.

"What is it?" he said.

She held up the small triggered object and squeezed. Bright pink paint sprayed out in a haze that filled the air for a second, and the moment it did, she began laughing. Her stomach began to hurt as she kept laughing, and she laughed until she felt tears pricking the back of her eyes, then, in a moment of frustration at her own emotions, pitched the sprayer towards the ship, letting out a scream of anger.

Zeb hesitated before kneeling in front of her again, "Are you okay?" He said as he felt her arms snake around his neck.

"I'm fine," she insisted.

He carried her inside. It wasn't much to look at—the portion of the ship they'd managed to get into was far up, towards the cockpit, and had been half crushed in where the ship had impacted the trees, and the rest of it was marred with soot and ash from the explosion and resulting fire. They found a patch near the hole they'd entered through that didn't look like it would collapse any time soon and set up a small camp there until they could gather the resources from within the ship to stay outside another night.

After spending a short time searching the ship for any food or supplies that they could manage, they returned to the little camp and were able to scrounge together a small mean from what hadn't been picked over by whatever natives had made their way inside. There were things missing that had obviously been removed after the crash, hacked off with rudimentary tools and there were little tracks left in the ashes by scavengers. But they had found some small items to cook.

As Zeb set up a small fire on some expendable papers they'd uncovered in the twisted remains of the cockpit, Sabine looked out the hole and watched the sun setting. She was uncomfortably quiet now, not like before where they hadn't anything more to talk about, but more of a seething silence. Zeb was afraid to ask what was wrong, because she just might explode on him like the ship had.

Finally, Sabine seemed to calm down once she'd stared at the sunset for long enough and taken some breaths. She looked at the fire and the cooking food, then at Zeb, "I think he's alive," she said emphatically.

"What?"

"Ezra." She scooted back against the ship wall, angling her body towards the fire, "I think he's alive," she reached for the food, taking some of it prematurely—she was too hungry to wait. "He's alive and so are Hera and Kanan,"

Zeb didn't answer, because he had no response. He was sure someone was dead—or dying—and didn't have it in him to say it. He was too tired. Too frustrated. Too done with everything to even bring it into his mind that it's possible for everyone to have survived. He ate his share, and when the fire had gone out, he laid down and tried to sleep, but sleep wouldn't come.

After Sabine had fallen asleep, he carefully made his way outside and began to walk around the ship, gathering things they may be able to use, when he heard a rustling in the distance. He stepped forward towards the treeline, casting a cautious glance back at Sabine, then moving forward into the woods. He drew his bo-rifle from his back and squinted into the darkness.

The bushes in front of him rustled and began to part. He raised his weapon, ready to fire when,

"Zeb?"

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><p>x-x-x-x-x-x<p>

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><p><strong>TEE HEE<strong>

In other news, ONE-HUNDRED REVIEWS! You guys are literally THE BEST, like, EVER! I can't believe we're here on chapter six with one-hundred reviews! Some fics take into their teens to get that kind of response, and it is just so amazing that you all have even stuck around for six chapters to provide this kind of feedback and amazing response to this little pile of dookie I call a fanfic.

And I'd really really really like to thank Raphaelplusmikey for their input about Zeb's eye and the idea for Sabine to be his eyes. Not only did their review give me tons of insight into disabilities of the optical nature, but it got me really thinking about everyone's injuries as a whole and I did some serious research into a lot of them, so we'll see a little of that in bits to come.

I'd also like to thank seleneraven1999 for being reviewer #100! You rock, and so does everyone who has brought this fic to this point!

As I said above, I _**know**_ where I'm taking some of this at this point, so it shouldn't take me long to get it on the page, but I am having to work basically six days a week despite it being the off-season just so I can be sure we make our bills this month until mom can get a new job. It's only been a week and a half since she got fired, and things are looking pretty good with one application she put in, but like I said, I've had to pick up shifts almost every day this week (including the past two days in which I pulled doubles) and may even have to pick up a second job if the one she gets doesn't make as much as her old one did. We'll see though!

As for the fic—it is my top priority when it comes to all of my fics at the moment. I have two multichapters for BH6 going right now, one of which I'm excited to do because it's post-apocalyptic, but the other I've lost my willingness to do anymore of, so this one is at the #1 slot for focus and dedication (plus I fucking love this okay even though it has plot holes the size of wampas and a storyline so flimsy Ezra's shock slingshot could snap it in half I really love this).

_Also I am abundantly aware of the amount of ooc this chapter had to offer but I think in the event of a catastrophic crash you'd be a little off your game too_

So yeah

That was excessively long for an author's note

but uh

OKAY BYE SEE YOU NEXT TIME


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